


if i keep digging will i find out who i am?

by drakarifire



Series: we’re stars just trying to shine [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Cunnilingus, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drakarifire/pseuds/drakarifire
Summary: In some ways Richie was a lot like the assholes at work. She had that same magnetic superpower that Eddie both envied and absolutely despised. The difference was that those men made their charm feel like a threat. Their smiles, a bearing of teeth, their laughter like growls as they battled it out for dominance in the office break room. Richie’s charm was easy and playful. It was disarming where others made her feel defensive. She’d walk out on stage; gangly limbs, and easy confidence, garishly patterned dress flaring out around matchstick legs and the whole room would hold its breath.Eddie tried so hard to ignore it, she really did.Just like she tried to ignore a lot of things about herself.Fuck.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: we’re stars just trying to shine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914187
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104





	if i keep digging will i find out who i am?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been working on this fic for months ( mostly trying to talk myself into writing the smutty parts ) and I finally just pushed through. I'm nervous, this is my second attempt at writing smut and publishing it, my first fully detailed attempt, and I'll admit the end of this fic was written on like no sleep and I APOLOGIZE. 
> 
> anyway the concept of this came about because I always see fem!Richie depicted as this tomboyish type while fem!Eddie is generally shown as more girly and I kind of wanted to reverse that? I don't know if it worked out, but I hope it did, and I honestly never saw it snowballing into what it is now but...here we are.

Eddie Kaspbrak was not unfamiliar with the concept of magnetic personalities. Working with insurance she’d met her fair share of people that took up the whole room the second they stepped inside. Charming smiles and smooth as silk voices used to lure little old ladies into big, unnecessary policies. Men like sharks gliding effortlessly through the water, built down to their DNA to be hunters. 

She’d never had that power. No matter how desperately her mother tried to sand down her edges, Eddie had always been abrasive. Face resting in a perpetual state of displeasure, voice too high and fast. Clipped and abrupt like a semi automatic firing shots at whoever happened to get in her way. It’d made her a nightmare on the playground and a terror at all of Sonia’s church functions. No amount of frilly pink dresses and cute braided pigtails seemed sufficient enough to draw the prim and proper little girl Sonia so desperately wanted out of the rebellious gremlin she’d been cursed with. 

Her knee-jerk reaction the moment she met someone with that level of magnetism was a sharp and overpowering desire to punch them in the face. She’d like to think that she was immune to their power after years of putting up with sleazy men in overpriced suits eyeing her like a piece of meat. Everyone else might be dazzled by the shit pouring out of their mouths, but not Eddie Kaspbrak. No sir. She had standards. Or...at least she used to have standards anyway. 

Then Richie had to come into her life like a windstorm, ruining absolutely everything with her obnoxious laugh and crooked smile. 

In some ways Richie was a lot like the assholes at work. She had that same magnetic superpower that Eddie both envied and absolutely despised. The difference was that those men made their charm feel like a threat. Their smiles, a bearing of teeth, their laughter like growls as they battled it out for dominance in the office breakroom. Richie’s charm was easy and playful. It was disarming where others made her feel defensive. She’d walk out on stage; gangly limbs, and easy confidence, garishly patterned dress flaring out around matchstick legs and the whole room would hold its breath. 

Eddie tried so hard to ignore it, she really did. 

Just like she tried to ignore a lot of things about herself. 

Fuck. 

She was almost forty years old and she’d spent her entire life ignoring anything and everything that even remotely brought her some semblance of joy. As hard as she’d fought for her independence as a child from her mother’s suffocating grasp, she’d always ended up giving in in the end. Taking the medicines she knew were fake, wearing the dresses and soft pastel colors she hated. She’d forgone medical school for business, took the jobs her mother suggested, and lived the life Sonia Kaspbrak considered appropriate. Nice house, nice husband, and nice job. Stamping out any urge that might conflict with the life she’d built for herself before it dared to ignite something inside of her. 

She’d tried to stomp out Richie’s spark. She really did. She’d erased her contact number, only to realize she’d memorized it in the short time she’d had it written down. She’d tried to block her, except that lasted a day, before her chest twisted with regret. She’d considered standing up every invitation to bars and comedy clubs, only to find herself standing outside fifteen minutes early and feeling lightheaded. 

Richie got an ongoing gig at a bar not far from Eddie’s house. Eddie tried not to think too much about it. 

“You gotta come watch my shows Eds, you’re like my good luck charm.” Richie’s tone was light, but the look in her eyes held something a little heavier, and Eddie has known her long enough now to understand what fiddling with her glasses meant. 

“Maybe. If you stop calling me that.” She gestured vaguely with the half empty beer in her hand before lifting it to her lips to take a sip. “What time’s your show?” 

“I’ve got two slots. Tuesday and Friday nights, ten to fifteen minutes starting at eight.” 

Eddie knew shit-all about Richie’s world, but that must have been good news because Richie’s entire face lit up like Christmas. “I don’t know Rich, I’ve got work-” 

Richie cut off her excuse by half lunging across the table, wrapping her considerably larger hands around Eddie’s with Eddie’s beer cradled between. “Please please please. Eddie. Eds. Babe. Light of my life. I need you to be there.” 

She can feel her heart speeding up in her chest. Pounding loud and desperate against her ribs like it was trying to leap out and run across the table and into Richie’s lap. “I-I’ll see what I can do.” She stammered, before sharpening her expression and regaining her composure. Wrenching her hands out of Richie’s grasp with a glare, one hand lifting to point at the other woman. “No promises, and if I do manage to show up you better not put me in your act or I swear to God Richie I will strangle you.” 

“Oooh, is that a promise?” 

Except she kept coming back here, every week like clockwork. Telling her husband she had a late night and feeling a spark of thrill in the pit of her stomach as she pushed her way into the now familiar comedy club. The kind of thrill that was maybe a little too telling, pooling warm and hot between her legs and she hadn’t even seen Richie yet. 

They had a routine, sort of. Eddie would show up five minutes before Richie’s set. She’d settle at their table and order them both drinks. Most nights Richie only got about 10 minutes, but her spot was good ( from what she’d been told anyway ) and sometimes she got bumped up to a solid 15. As much as Eddie hated having to wait those extra five minutes, she loved seeing how thrilled Richie was when she finally did come out to her. The adrenaline made her jittery and lit her eyes up like fire. 

Eddie was hoping for a 10. It’d probably be better if they both weren’t feeling jittery tonight. 

Breathing hard through her nose, she fiddled with her fingers, feeling the absence of her wedding ring like a blinking neon light above her head. Doubt made her stomach twist for a moment, until Richie’s name echoed across the room and her eyes instantly caught onto the other woman. That feeling of having all the air sucked out of the room punching her squarely in the pit of her stomach as Richie’s eyes met hers, flashing a grin and a wink, before addressing the rest of the audience. 

She wants to say she paid attention to the set but she doesn’t remember much after that. 

Her brain was too caught up in the colors on Richie’s dress and the way they made her eyes look almost hazel behind her glasses. Her hair was up, dark curls that Eddie knew for a fact reached down past her waist, bundled into a messy bun. She looked wild up there. A carefully tended disaster that went against everything Eddie had ever been taught to be, and yet felt more like a woman than the pale pastel suits and soft lacy clothing she’d been forced to wear since she was a child. 

The heat between her legs was scalding. 

“Damn Kaspbrak, was I that bad?” 

“Huh?” 

“Eds?” 

_Oh shit_. Richie was not on stage anymore. She was right here. In her face, waving a hand to try and grab her attention, eyebrows pinched in concern above her glasses. “Hey, you okay?” 

Eddie blinked, cheeks flushing red, and instinct making her swat Richie’s hand away. “What- I’m fine. I just...I just spaced out.” 

“You sure?” Richie didn’t look like she believed her. Rapidly catching Eddie’s wrist to keep from getting accidentally slapped in the face. “Cause you didn’t laugh like once dude.” 

“Don’t fucking call me ‘dude’.” 

She wanted to pull her hand out of Richie’s grasp, but she also wanted Richie to see. She needed Richie to notice and understand. 

As if she could read her mind ( and Eddie wondered sometimes if she could ) Richie’s eyes dropped down to the mark on her skin. The ghostly imprint of a ring that was no longer there. 

Richie always caused a shift in the room when she walked in. She filled it. Commanded it. Her laughter was loud and obnoxious but catching like fire on dry tinder. Right now Eddie could feel a different sort of shift. One that didn’t fill the room or take up space. It was localized, directed straight at Eddie, setting her entire body on fire. Behind Richie’s glasses her pupils expanded, the grip on Eddie’s wrist tightening just the slightest bit before her hand was moving. Shifting up so Eddie’s palm rested against her own, and her thumb could swipe over the line of slightly paler skin. 

“Eddie.” Richie’s voice sounded different. Cautious. 

She didn’t think it was a question, but she found herself answering anyway. The air stammering out of her lungs in a quivering exhale, “I’m getting a divorce.” 

There’s something here. There’s been something here for months, since the first day they met in a hotel bar while Richie was tending between gigs and Eddie was at her sister-in-law’s wedding. She could tell herself it’d built up over time but she’d known even then, giving her maiden name like she hadn’t been married for the past eight years. It felt like a rubber band stretching impossibly close to snapping with each encounter. 

Richie was shaking. She could feel it through their hands. Her tongue flicked out, dragging across her lips in a movement that made Eddie feel almost feral. “Does this mean-” 

“Can I come home with you?” 

The full shudder that raked through the other woman’s body was a visible thing. Eddie could see it as well as she could feel it in their combined hands and it made her glad- truly glad for her decision for the first time since she’d left her ring on the dining room table. 

“Yes. Fuck yes. You don’t- Eds, you don’t even have to fucking ask.” 

Richie’s free hand is fumbling in her dress pocket. ( Eddie can remember the first time she’d worn it in front of her. “It has fucking pockets Eds. Pockets.” And she’d shoved her hands as deep as they could go before spinning so the skirt would fan out around her. ) She’s pulling out some spare bills to leave as a tip and slapping them onto the table, completely ignoring her drink and Eddie’s protests as she tugs her from her chair. 

\----

She’s been to Richie’s place before, so that’s not new. She recognizes the apartment building, the stairs leading up to the fourth floor, and the angry cat that watches from the third floor landing. She’s almost intimately familiar with the voices shouting through some of the doors, and the way the number on Richie’s door is kind of crooked. 

She’s long since gotten over the surprise of walking into Richie’s apartment and seeing soft purple walls and overstuffed furniture with colorful pillows and thick throw blankets. Richie is...in some ways, the daughter Sonia Kaspbrak might have liked. She loves soft things. Loves a bed overflowing with stuffed animals. Loves getting dressed up and spending hours on her make-up. 

She puts Eddie to shame with her skills in eyeshadow, flashing a grin at Eddie’s reflection in her mirror as she dusts her eyes with some vivid combination of greens while Eddie milks the last of her single tube of lipstick for all it’s worth. 

Richie’s place is nothing like the neutral and overly modern decor of her own home, and she thought maybe she’d hate it, but she doesn’t- because it’s so unabashedly Richie. She feels comfortable here, at home, in a way that she’s never felt before. This is where laughter comes easy, and the frown lines she’s been carefully crafting since she was twelve years old start to fade away. 

It’s where she realized, for the first time, that she was in love with this tall, unbelievable woman. 

And now, it’s where they share their first kiss. 

She thought for sure it’d happen at the comedy club, or even in the taxi on the way here. She’d been itching for it from the moment she’d seen Richie walk out on that stage, with her wide smile framed in dark red lips. 

She kept waiting. Eyes darting in Richie’s direction. Feeling the brush of Richie’s thumb on the back of the hand she hadn’t let go. She wanted to ask, “why haven’t you kissed me, yet?” but the words were lodged in her throat. Too afraid of the answer. Even though they were here. Even though Richie was looking at her like she wanted to devour every inch of her skin. 

It wasn’t until they were standing inside of Richie’s living room that she remembered. This was Richie. Richie who asked for permission before holding her hand, even though she always said yes. Richie who apologized sometimes because she didn’t realize she’d been touching Eddie. Richie who went above and beyond to make sure Eddie was comfortable with any small thing she did. 

She’s not going to make the first move, dumbass. 

Eddie couldn’t help but mentally roll her eyes. Body turning abruptly and crowding the taller woman back against the apartment door. Ignoring Richie’s half-strangled “Eds” in favor of pushing up on her tip-toes, one hand curling at the base of Richie’s neck, and hauling her down into a kiss. Richie reacts almost immediately. Barely a second passing before she was returning the kiss with enthusiasm. Finally releasing her grip on Eddie’s hand in favor of cupping her face.

They stumble through it at first. Clumsy and full of anxious energy, Eddie feels like she’s vibrating in her skin and Richie is standing rigid like she’s afraid any movement outside of her lips will shatter this reality to pieces. It takes time ( how much of it Eddie isn’t sure ) for them to find a rhythm; the kiss becomes less urgent, heads tilting for a better angle, and tongues pressing past lips to meet each other. 

When they part, gasping for breath and dazed, Richie’s hands remain cradling her face. 

“Jesus fuck, Eddie. Warn a girl first next time, huh?” 

“And what? Miss that look on your face?” She smirked, hand lifting to push up Richie’s chin with her index finger. “Close your fucking mouth before you catch some flies.” 

The smirk on Richie’s lips has heat spiraling through her, making her feel dizzy. Richie’s hands drop from her face to hook around her hips and drag her in, canceling out any distance left between their bodies. “The way your tongue was going for my throat I think flies are the least of my worries, sweetheart.” 

“Now there’s an idea…” 

“Huh- oh Christ. Fuck. _Eddie_.” 

She was back up on her toes only this time her target was much lower than Richie’s lips. Mouth attaching hungrily to the long expanse of pale neck just below Richie’s chin, mouthing at the skin until she got the reaction she was looking for. A low, guttural moan, large hands digging desperate fingers into the soft flesh of her ass. Richie’s entire body slumping down against the door like her legs stopped being capable of holding her weight. 

“Eddie. Eds. Sweetheart- I- I’m gonna need to know what the plan is here.” Richie was breathless and it was making Eddie’s head spin. She sounded wreaked and they hadn’t even done anything yet. 

“Isn’t it obvious, _baby_?” That earns her a noise she wants to bottle up and keep. Something bordering on a whimper, the pupils in Richie’s eyes visibly expanding. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Richie’s head fell back against the door with an audible thunk, her face angled up towards the ceiling. It opened up a lot of possibilities for Eddie who’d been dreaming of what she’d do with full, unrestricted access to that long slender neck and sharp jaw since the first moment she’d laid eyes on it. 

She’s maybe a bit too aggressive if Richie’s flinch is anything to go by, but the other woman doesn’t seem to care either way. If anything it only serves to make her moan louder, grasping at Eddie so hard she can’t help but hope there’ll be bruises. “Bedroom.” A command, a growl, pressed to the pulse at Richie’s throat. The kind of sound Eddie never once thought she’d be capable of. 

“I always knew you’d be bossy in bed.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“Think you mean, Fuck me.” She laughs but it’s nothing like any of the ones Eddie’s heard before, the ones she’s memorized. This one is new and breathless and Eddie wants to save it to her phone so she can listen to it over and over. It really isn’t fair how every aspect of Richie somehow gets her blood turning into magma in her veins. Who the fuck gets horny off of laughter? What kind of wires does she have crossed in the soft tissue of her brain that even Richie’s braying Donkey laugh makes her want to lick her way into the other woman’s mouth like she can somehow swallow that sound whole. 

“Keep talking and the only one getting fucked tonight is the vibrator back at my hotel.” Fingers coil into dark waves and tug for emphasis, Eddie’s starving for the sight of Richie’s exposed throat, she feels like a fucking vampire. She wants to sink her teeth in, leave marks and bruises. Tell the world Richie Tozier is hers. “Would really suck if I left you all wet and bothered....” She teases, though they both know she’s not about to walk out of this apartment. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Tease or not, her words seem to throw gasoline on the roaring fire in Richie’s eyes. Suddenly that almost glazed over expression on the other woman’s face turns into intense focus. 

The stumble to the bedroom is haphazard and messy. They can’t keep their hands off of each other for more than a few seconds at a time, leaving articles of discarded clothing strewn in a trail through the apartment. Eddie thought that maybe this part would be difficult somehow, that maybe they’d be cautious and unsure, stripping slow like nervous teenagers. Except Richie pulls her own dress off so fast she nearly knocks her glasses off her face and Eddie half stumbles to the floor as she hops out of her panties. They’re fumbling, tripping over each other, and huffing out laughs as their hands coast over newly exposed skin. 

Richie’s knees hit the back of the bed and Eddie wastes no time pushing her down onto it. She feels like she’s wanted this for her whole life, like every path she’s taken no matter how convoluted, was meant to bring her right here.   
She has to stop. 

Not to rethink or doubt her decisions. She’d make this one decision a million times over without a second’s hesitation. 

No. She needs to look. Needs to drink in the sight of Richie laying back against the bed more naked than she’s ever seen her. Her fingers trail up the other woman’s belly with a reverence she’s been trying so hard to hold back in the months they’ve known each other. Months that have felt like years and years of friendship, as though Richie has always been a part of her life. 

She’s beautiful. 

Her body is long and slender, but her thighs are strong and the curve of her shoulders is enough to make Eddie feel dizzy. She’s not supermodel pretty, her face is too angular- almost masculine, her breasts are small, and she’s got a slight pouch in her belly, but they’re far from flaws in Eddie’s eyes. Not when she wants to kiss every inch of skin just to see what sort of reactions she can draw out. 

She’d spent a long time ignoring her own desire for women. Thankful that her mother had kept her from Gym if only so she could avoid standing in the locker room with the other girls. It’s not that she would have stared...at least she doesn’t think she would have, but the fear of that ‘what if’ was always lingering. She didn’t want to be perceived for a lot of her faults; her temper, her fears, but especially not her desires. She knew well enough what the world thought about people like them, what her mother would think of what she was. 

_We’re not cutting your hair Edyth, you don’t want people to think you’re a dyke do you?_

Sonia’s voice isn’t welcome here and Eddie banishes it with a swift surge to Richie’s lips, climbing up until her knees were bracketing the other woman’s hips. “You’re so fucking beautiful-” 

She’s not expecting the kiss that follows to break when Richie pushes her away. She’d lost her glasses at some point in their fumbling and even with their faces so close there’s a slight squint in Richie’s eyes like she can’t quite make out Eddie’s features as well as she wants to. “Hold up there shortcake, you really think that?” 

For a second she’d been sure she’d done something wrong though what that something might have been she was having trouble conceptualizing. Her mind doing cartwheels to try and figure out if they’d even done anything yet before- oh. Oh. She blinks, focusing on Richie’s face. Taking in the absolute bewilderment in the other woman’s expression as though she somehow couldn’t quite believe what she’d just heard which...frankly, made no sense to Eddie whatsoever. 

Her own brows furrowing, body shifting to sit back on her haunches. It allowed Richie enough space to sit up, hands settling on Eddie’s hips in a light grip. Somewhere between wanting to keep her there but all too willing to let her go if she wanted to leave. It made Eddie want to push her hands down, force her to dig her fingers into the skin until there were bruises left behind. 

“What is that so hard to believe?” Her own hands lifted, covering Richie’s and pressing them down harder, eyes never straying from the other woman’s face. “Rich, I left my husband for you. I mean sure I’m fucking gay as hell and I probably should have left for that reason a hell of a lot sooner but- fuck.” She huffed out a breath, squeezing down on Richie’s hands, “You were like my second gay awakening…” 

“Second?” 

“Is that really all you got out of that?” 

“Sorry Eds, got a one track mind.” Richie smirked and God dammit if that didn’t make her body feel like jello. “Need to know who my competition is.” 

“It’s not a fucking competition if you’ve already won asshole. I’m literally sitting right here. Naked. This is it Tozier. This is first place, you’ve earned the gold fucking medal.”

“Oh, yeah? Then who is it? C’mon. Who got baby Eddie’s panties wet?” Those hands on her hips give her a squeeze, and all it does is make her feel desperate. There is nothing between her and the warm heat of Richie’s body beneath her, nothing stopping those fingers from trailing down between her legs. 

It makes her jaw clench in frustration, and she tries to derail this conversation and get back to the urgent matter at hand, but Richie seems to read her mind. Before she can fully grind herself down, Richie’s hands tighten just enough to keep her locked in place. 

“Uh-uh princess. C’mon. Play nice.” Richie’s grin is downright wolfish, the tip of her tongue peeking out beneath her slightly crooked teeth. 

“I know we’re buck ass naked right night but if you don’t think I’ll get dressed and walk right back to my-” 

She squeaks. Like a dog’s chew toy. It’s the only way to describe the absolutely mortifying sound that comes out of her when Richie flips them on the bed. 

“Did you know when you blush it goes all the way…” Richie’s hand lifts from her hip, slightly calloused fingertips brushing her cheek, skirting down her neck, over her chest circling one of her nipples, before stopping to press her palm flat against her belly. “Down here.” 

She has to bite her bottom lip before she lets any more noises escape, even if her body betrays her by arching up into that touch. “Still not telling.” She grinds out, corner of her lips ticking up slightly, “That’s for me and my fifth grade diary to know.” 

“Eddieee.” She drags the end out, whining low, and pouting. “At least tell me so I know who beat me to the illustrious title of ‘Eddie’s sexual awakening.’” 

“Fine, but you can’t fucking laugh.” 

“Scout’s honor!” 

“I highly doubt you were a girl scout but whatever.” She rolls her eyes, groaning in defeat and letting her head fall back, voice dropping low. “ItwasPamelaAndersonokayGod.” 

“I’m sorry what?” 

“Pamela Anderson! It was- It was fucking Pamela Anderson. Christ.” Her hands are flying up to her face and she can just picture her skin getting redder by the second. The mental image accompanied by the very recent memory of Richie’s touch. 

Sure enough, Richie snorts, and then breaks out in that obnoxious laugh that does so many unfair things to her. 

She feels hands curling around her wrist, feels them tugging her own away from her face, but she fights them at first. At least until Richie makes an attempt at stopping her laughter. “Hey. Hey no, c’mon Eds. Don’t-” A half suppressed giggle, “I didn’t- I’m not laughing at you. Promise.” 

“Like fuck you aren’t.” 

“Really!” She tugs again, and Eddie reluctantly lets her hands get pulled away. “Look. I mean, really Eddie. Just- just look at me. You’re telling me that your big gay moment was Pamela Anderson and now it’s...now it’s this? Like what the fuck Eddie, are you blind?” 

“I’m not- Richie, people’s tastes change!” She’d swat at her if Richie wasn’t still holding her wrists so she just glared up at the other woman instead. “You’re so much fucking sexier than Pamela Anderson okay. Like- holy shit how have you not noticed me staring? I swear to God every time you walked out in that- that god awful silk bathrobe my entire brain would just shut off.” 

“I know your mom did a number on you, but I wasn’t aware she dropped you on your head as a baby. My condolences.” 

“Oh fuck off and kiss me dammit.” She glared, “I’m serious Richie. I’m really fucking horny right now and your self image issues are not going to keep me from fucking your brains out so can we please shelve this for later?” 

“Have I mentioned how hot it is when you boss me around?” 

“Once or twice.” 

Eddie managed to tug one of her hands free with Richie distracted and used it to drag the other woman down until their lips met. “I promise babe. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, okay?” Her thumb swiping across sharp cheekbones. 

She means it. Ferociously, with every fiber of her being. From the very first moment she looked up and saw Richie smiling at her from the other side of the bartop. Everything about her felt like it was specifically crafted to drive Eddie into a frenzy...and fuck she wanted. She wanted so badly that her body felt like it was burning for it. 

Richie’s hand curled around the remaining wrist in her control, head turning to press a kiss to her palm. “You’re really something, you know that Kaspbrak? Like holy shit, I must have won the fucking lottery.” 

“I don’t know, keep derailing this and neither of us is winning anything tonight.” 

“You drive a hard bargain there little lady.” Richie’s smile was dazzling, if a bit cheeky, “But, you’re right!” Her eyes dropped down, tracing the line of Eddie’s throat down to the curve of her small breasts. “I’ve been wanting to get my mouth on these little beauties for ages.” 

“Jesus Christ-” 

“Ah ah ah. Not my name.” She teased, winking before shifting her grip on Eddie’s wrist to lace their fingers together, pushing Eddie’s arm up above her head. 

“Richie- c’mon I wanted to- I was _on top_ dammit.” 

Richie’s lips had traced along Eddie’s collarbone, stopping to graze her teeth along the curve of one breast, until she was swirling her tongue around a hardened nipple drawing it into her mouth. She sucked greedily on it, being as noisy as she could just to see Eddie’s face twist between distaste and pleasure. 

“B-bitch.”   
The pop of sound as Richie detached was particularly obscene, her grin almost predatory. “Oh, hon you thought I was going to let you top tonight?” She chuckled, head ducking to kiss down the center of Eddie’s chest, her free hand moving to tweak the nipple her mouth had neglected. It was enough to make Eddie gasp and arch up, hands clenching on whatever they could- the sheets, Richie’s fingers. “I’ve met your husband Eddie, that man has never gone down on a woman a day in his life.” 

_“Ex-husband.”_

“Hmm, yeah, when the divorce goes through.” She smirked, releasing Eddie’s hand so she could start crawling further down the bed. Leaving a trail of kisses and blossoming hickies as she went. “Kind of hot knowing I’m a homewrecker.” 

“You’re actually fucking impossible, you know that?” She really tried to look disappointed ( in Richie or herself for being so agonizingly in love with her ) but it was difficult when the woman of your dreams was hiking your legs up over her shoulders and kissing the insides of your thighs. She could feel the bruises blossoming beneath her skin, and thought, almost manically, that she didn’t belong to her husband anymore. They might still share a name, a house, and a bank account, but her body had someone else’s name written all over it. With each mark Richie left behind Eddie could picture the other woman’s messy signature scrawled across every inch of her skin and the sensation didn’t make her itch. It wasn’t like Sonia handing her off on her wedding day, or like her husband mounting her during their honeymoon like he was staking some primal claim. 

Eddie felt like she was finally somewhere she wanted to be, for herself. 

“Fuck Eds-” Richie’s voice cracked on her name, shifting Eddie’s body so she slip a hand under her ass, and use the other to brush a gentle thumb over her clit. “I knew you’d have a cute cunt but holy shit…” Richie’s fingers gently spread her folds open to peek inside, mouth watering at the sight in front of her. It was a struggle for her eyes to peek up at Eddie again, to tear her gaze away from the prize in front of her. “Has no one really eaten you out, baby?” 

Anticipation and the soft probing touch in places that had only ever really gotten stilted attempts at pleasure from her own clumsy fingers and her husband’s disinterested dick had her breathing heavy. Each puff of warm breath against her skin making something heated pulse between her thighs. “Nuh-uh. Nope. No- Not once.” The words tumbled out of her, half tangled on her tongue, and she could hear Richie chuckling in response. 

Richie nosed at the delicately trimmed hairs of her pussy, pressing a kiss to the hood of her clit before dipping her tongue in to draw circles around the bundle of nerves. It was like Eddie’s moans were music notes and she was learning the keys it took to play them. If she enjoyed a particular sound or movement of her hips, she refocused her attention to that spot until she managed to get it again. First it was her tongue, then a long slender finger dipping into her and curling until she was arching up off the bed, followed soon after by a second. 

At first Richie kept her mouth focused on her clit and the soft skin at the base of her thighs, letting her fingers handle the deeper exploration. She curled and probed, sliding in and out, until Eddie’s cunt was dripping wet and all but sucking her in. “Fuck Richie. Fuck fuck fuck.” Eddie’s hands were white-knuckled fists on the sheets, the muscles in her belly tight enough to snap, and her hips trying desperately to fuck herself on Richie’s fingers. 

“Easy kitten, I haven’t even gotten to the main dish.” Richie soothed, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s inner thigh and chuckling as the muscles beneath the skin twitched in response. Slipping her fingers out she slid her hand out from under Eddie’s ass, then pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Sit up baby. Put your back against the headboard.” 

Eddie whined at the command and the loss of Richie’s fingers inside of her. They’d hardly felt like enough, as adept as they were at their job, but their absence had her body clenching desperately around nothing. Her chest heaving she was glad her face was already flushed or she’d be blushing out of sheer embarrassment at the desperation in her voice when she called Richie’s name.

“I know Eds.” Richie cooed, stroking her hip gently, and flashing her a smile. “Promise I’m not done yet-“ her tongue dragged across her lips, licking at whatever amount of Eddie’s taste still lingered there. “I just found my favorite flavor and I’m not about to let it go to waste.” 

It was so easy to talk to Richie normally, but right now it’s like none of her words could find traction. This was a side of Richie she hadn’t seen before. Sure she’d watched her flirt at bars, and she’d always known about the other woman’s sheer magnitude and charisma, but this was different. This was Richie like...like a goddess. 

She’d maneuvered herself into a sitting position which afforded her the sight of Richie in all her naked glory. A goddess. Like a Renaissance painting in a museum. The moonlight filtering in from outside, making her pale skin luminescent and her dark hair shine with shades of blue. She was kneeling on the bed, a waterfall of black curls down her back, and a patch of equally dark hair between her slender thighs. Parts of her, if looked at separately, seemed miss matched: the long limbs, the broad shoulders, the sharp features, and slightly crooked smile, but all together she was a masterpiece. Soft curves Eddie wanted to leave the imprint of her fingers in, and breasts that seemed just the right size to cup in her hands. 

Was it strange to look at a person and wonder if they were made for you? Specifically to be everything you could ever want or need- a lover, a friend, and all that lay in between?

With Richie inching towards her, and smiling, Eddie could believe that this woman had been placed on this planet just for her. There was not a single part of Richie Tozier that she didn’t want to gaze at for the rest of eternity. 

“Open up kitten.” Richie’s hand cupped her chin lightly, tilting her head up and urging her to part her lips and stick out her tongue. “Give yourself a little taste.” She purred, leaning down to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead as she pressed her fingers to Eddie’s tongue. Instinctively Eddie closed her mouth around them, large brown eyes never once straying from Richie’s face as she sucked and swirled her tongue across her own taste. Richie presses her fingers back enough that Eddie gags on them, body wrenching back slightly in a fit of coughs, only to have Richie follow and keep them halfway down her throat. “You look so fucking good with something in your mouth baby.” She leaned forward, kissing up Eddie’s neck until she could nip at her ear. “Did he make you choke on his cock? Was it even big enough to go down your throat?” 

Richie’s voice had lowered to something deep and guttural. The cadence of it as dark as her eyes looked with the pupils blown to eclipse the blue of her irises. It made a scorching heat pool between Eddie’s legs and a muffled whine to sound out around the other’s fingers. 

Pulling her fingers from Eddie's mouth, Richie used that same spit-slicked hand to grab Eddie’s chin and pull her into a filthy kiss. It was wet and loud, drool and some of her own juices leaking down her chin, and Eddie fucking loved every second of it. 

When it broke she felt almost dazed, mewling as she chased after Richie’s lips. 

“Cute.” Richie chuckled, smirking as she pushed Eddie’s legs apart, body sinking down onto the bed between them. “Where’s my little spitfire gone?” Her lips trailed down Eddie’s inner thighs again, sucking a fresh mark into the soft skin and biting until she’d left indents with her teeth. 

“Stop _teasing_.” Eddie almost didn’t recognize the sound of her own voice. It sounded small, breathless and desperate. She could feel her cheeks growing red just at the look it earned her from the woman between her legs. Richie looked smug, and Christ that shouldn’t have been as hot as it was...it should have been embarrassing, but all it did was make Eddie’s stomach twist and her toes curl into the sheets. 

“Or what, kitten?” Another kiss, lighter this time, ticklish even, so close to where Eddie wanted her but not close enough. “What’ll you do?” 

Eddie had to fight the urge to roll her eyes back and moan, clenching the sheets and pressing herself down against the bed just so she didn’t buck up towards Richie’s face. “Fuck. Richie-” 

“C’mon Eddie. _Make me_.” 

There was a challenge in Richie’s eyes that had something snapping in Eddie’s brain. Her breath evened out, hands unfurling from their death grip on the sheets to tangle into Richie’s curls. A sharp tug, painful, had the taller woman moaning Eddie’s name in a sound Eddie wanted to bottle up and keep. “Stop. Teasing.” She growled, guiding Richie’s face down towards her cunt. Pushing on the back of her head until she could feel the other woman’s nose pressing into the small triangle of hair at the base of her pelvis. 

“Now we’re talking.” Richie’s voice was half muffled, but Eddie couldn’t care less what she’d even said because not a second later her tongue was moving for an entirely different reason. 

The only word to describe the enthusiasm with which Richie went to work was ‘attack’. Her mouth, her tongue, she was fighting a battle between Eddie’s legs and winning. Her hands gripped Eddie’s hips tight enough to bruise, and her face pressed in as close as she could physically manage. Eddie's never understood the reason people enjoyed this, no matter how much porn she watched. Some part of her couldn’t get over how unhygienic it looked...how dirty, and Richie was right. Her husband had never wanted to, never even suggested it. In fact she was positive the very idea of going down on her had probably seemed disgusting to him, though he had no trouble shoving his dick down her throat on more than one occasion. Yet, here was Richie, essentially fucking her with her tongue, and eating her out like she was her favorite meal. 

The sounds alone, that hungry, desperate slurping, was enough to have Eddie rutting her hips up. Her hands tightening on Richie’s hair like she’d drown if she let go. It had to hurt, but Richie didn’t seem to mind, if anything she was even more enthusiastic, sucking on Eddie’s clit every time Eddie gave a particularly harsh tug.

“Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck Richie-” Her legs kicked at the bed, hands pressing down as her hips bucked up, nearly grinding Richie’s face against her cunt. 

The only warning either of them got for what happened next was a strangled noise from Eddie’s throat and a particularly sharp thrust of her hips. 

To say that Eddie had never orgasmed before would be a lie. She had, if only by her own fingers, or any one of the toys she’d purchased to help get her through her marriage. So yeah, she knew what an orgasm felt like, and so she knew that it wasn’t this. 

This was an orgasm on steroids. 

She was gushing, and all she could do was hold onto Richie’s hair and ride it out as her body spasamed in pulses. 

_Fuck. Oh fuck. Was Richie fucking drowning down there? Had she just peed on her face? Let her up for Christ’s sake Eddie!!_

  
It was hard to panic when your brain was leaking out of your ears but somehow she was managing. Her hands flinching back out of Richie’s hair like it had turned into flames or a living nest of snakes. 

“Ho- Holy shit Richie. Fuck, I didn’t- I’m sorry. I should have- _fuckfuckfuck_ ” her apologies were abruptly cut off as Richie’s mouth latched onto her clit to give it one last, hard suck. Swirling her tongue around the now over-sensitive bundle of nerves and making Eddie’s body writhe against the bed, her hands clawing at anything within reach. 

Before she could beg her to stop Richie popped off, giving her pussy a kiss, before pushing herself back up into a sitting position. “Edyth Francine Kaspbrak, please tell me you weren’t about to apologize for the absolute sexiest thing I have ever had the immense pleasure of causing.” Richie’s face was soaked, the moonlight glinting off the wetness that coated her mouth and chin, some of it dripping down her neck and even wetting a few of the curls around her face. 

It was simultaneously the hottest and most embarrassing sight she’d ever had the misfortune pleasure of witnessing. “I should have warned you, oh God-” 

“I don’t know about God, Eds, but I think I might have found the holy grail.” Her tongue dragged across her lips, and humming in delight like she’d just licked the last remnants of her favorite ice cream. “I really fucking wish I’d had you ride my face instead. Sure I might have actually drowned but fuck if it wouldn’t have been worth it.” 

“For fuck’s sake Richie.” She grasped the first thing she could get her hands on, a garishly colored throw pillow, and lobbed it at Richie’s head. The other woman caught it and smirked over the top at her. “That was embarrassing! Do people just- what the fuck?!” 

“Have you really never- holy shit Eds. That...really does something to a girl’s ego.” She snorted, “I can’t believe I made you squirt! This is like heaven.” 

“Shut up!” 

“Absolutely not!” Richie lunged forward, pinning Eddie back against the bed, or trying to anyway. Eddie had folded her knees up and they were now acting as a barrier between them. She could probably kick her off if she wanted, especially since she could smell herself on Richie’s breath and see the mess she’d made of Richie’s face a lot better now. “Let me bask in my victory, kitten. I’ve got a lot of game, but even I can count the number of times I’ve made someone cum like that on one hand.” 

Groaning, Eddie let her head fall back against the headboard, eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “I just- I’ve never...I didn’t even know I could do that. I thought that was like...a porn thing.” 

“Oh yeah, totally. They just. Shove a sprinkler system in the pornstar’s pussy and trigger it when she’s ready for showtime. Mhmm, I can see where the confusion comes from.” 

“Fuck off!” 

“What? All I’m saying is that maybe porn isn’t all fake...you know, if you know what you’re doing.” She wiggled her eyebrows, her smile widening. “Which apparently I do. Goodbye Trashmouth, hello Pussy Whisperer.” 

“No. Absolutely not.” 

“Dr. Pussy Whisperer?” 

“I can’t believe I just had sex with you.” 

“Pussy Whisperer M.D” 

Now it was Eddie’s turn to lunge forward. She bucked her legs enough to knock Richie back, then sprang up the rest of the way until she’d wrestled the taller woman onto her back, Richie’s dark hair cascading off the foot of the bed as she beamed up at Eddie. “Please shut up before I’m forced to kill you so no one can find out we slept together.” 

“Only if you promise to kill me by drowning me between your thighs.” 

“You are literally the most insufferable person I’ve ever fucking met.” Not that that fact was doing anything to stop her from leaning down and pressing their lips together. Not even the prospect of tasting herself on Richie’s tongue, or coating her face in her own slick could stop her from kissing Richie. 

“But you love me?” She gasped as their lips parted long enough for them to breathe. Richie’s hand had moved to cup Edide’s cheek and it lingered there, brushing a thumb lazily along her cheekbone. 

Eddie tilted forward, bumping the tips of their noses together and smiling. “But I love you.” 

“Good,” and she pulled Eddie back down into a kiss. 

\----

After a shower, things felt almost like they had before they’d become this...and Eddie supposed that that was okay. After all, it was these soft, intimate moments that made her realize how she really felt for the first time. Sitting cross-legged on Richie’s bed wearing nothing but one of Richie’s ugly patterned silky bathrobes lazily tied around her body, Eddie tilted her head back and sighed. Richie’s hands were gentle as they guided the brush through Eddie’s long hair, working out the knots and humming the Rolling Stones under her breath.

It was kind of like the sleepovers she used to see on TV. She’d been invited to a few when she’d been younger, but her mother always said no. Too afraid that the other girls would corrupt her pure little Eddie-bear, or that the promise of no boys was really just a ruse. Richie’s bedroom had some of the same aesthetics as all her dreams of the ideal pre-teen girl’s. The bright colors, piles of stuffed animals, and eclectic collection of overly fuzzy furniture. All that was missing was a collection of friends, bowls of popcorn, and cosmo magazine scattered across the floor. 

“What cha’ thinkin’ about Eds?” Richie brushed her hair aside enough to rest her chin on Eddie’s shoulder, the hand not holding the brush gently rubbing one of Eddie’s arms. “If this is about earlier, I promise squirting is an entirely normal thing...you don’t have to be ashamed about it.” 

“No.” She shook her head abruptly, “It’s not- It’s not about that.” 

Richie’s arms curled around her torso, pressing a delicate kiss to her shoulder. “C’mon Eds, you know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Eddie felt her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, chewing on it in consideration. She did know that. In fact, Richie was arguably one of the only people she’d ever felt at ease enough with to open up to, and it wasn’t like this was a topic they hadn’t discussed before. Richie knew all about Sonia and her stellar parenting tactics. She knew everything about Eddie’s marriage, including the parts she’d been hiding from herself that had ultimately led to her decision for the divorce. 

Sighing, she let her shoulders slump. “Honestly? I don’t know.” Her head fell forward, focusing on her hands as her fingers twirled the silk tie of the bathrobe. “I think I just...don’t know who I am Richie. Like. What do I even like? It took me way too fucking long to even admit to liking women and there’s so much about me that’s just...my mother.” She flinched. 

“Woah, hey. Don’t say that. You’re nothing like her. Not even a little bit.” She gave Eddie a light squeeze in her arms. “I never had the misfortune of meeting the late Mrs. Kaspbrak, but if I did I’m pretty sure I’d roundhouse kick her in the vagina for all the shit she put you through.” 

She couldn’t help the little snort that that mental image drew out of her, even as she shook her head. “I know...I know I’m not like her. Not that way at least- but in everything else. I dress like her, I wear my hair like her. It’s like she was trying to make me into this little fucking carbon copy of her down to all the bullshit paranoia.” Her eyes closed, hands clenched into fists. “I just, don’t know who the fuck I’m suposed to be, Richie.” 

She was expecting another squeeze, or more kisses, but instead Richie pulled away from her. She felt the other woman scramble off the bed, but fear kept her focused on her hands. Was this it? Had she finally fucked this up somehow? Turning yourself into your dead, abusive mother had to be like some...universal line right? Some big giant red stop sign blinking in front of her and warning people away. Fuck. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that this wouldn’t work out. She had no plan Bs. No alternatives. This was it. If she fucked things up with Richie then she’d have literally nothing, she’d left her home with a purse and the knowledge that she loved a woman who loved her back. Without one of those things what was she left with? Her wallet, a half used tube of lipstick and some lint? 

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

“Eds come here.” Eddie’s head snapped up, eyes finding Richie standing in the threshold to her ensuite. Her robe covered absolutely nothing, though she’d at least made an effort to tie around her waist, if only to keep it from completely slipping off her shoulders. She had her glasses back on and her hair was a wild waterfall of frizz fresh from their shower. She beckoned Eddie forward and smiled, “C’mon.” Her other hand lifted holding up a pair of scissors. “You always said you wanted to cut your hair, right?” 

Just like that the panic that had begun to build in Eddie’s chest melted in a rush, slipping out of her with a sigh. Tension eased from her shoulders, letting them sag, as her body slid to the edge of the bed. 

“Are you going to give me a mohawk?” She muttered, eyeing the pair of scissors suspiciously. 

“First off, you’d look sexy as fuck with a mohawk in my personal opionion, and second, only if you want me to babe.” She winked, leaning down to press a light kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I’d think you were beautiful even if you looked like that Cynthia doll from the Rugrats.” 

“Oh, yeah? Three clumps of hair really do it for you Tozier?” How could she ever doubt this woman? How could she think even for one second that Richie would do absolutely anything that would hurt her? 

Richie beamed, “Hey, if that’s the hairstyle my girlfriend wants, who am I to tell her no?” 

_Girlfriend._ The word makes her giggle. _Actually fucking giggle_ , like she’s fourteen all over again. In fact so much about being with Richie is like reliving all the moments she never got to live in the first place. All the childhood moments stolen by her mother, and all the relationship and marriage moments taken by her husband. 

“Now chop chop! We’ve got some snip snip to do.” She winked, curling an arm around Eddie’s waist and drawing her into the bathroom until she was standing in front of the mirror. She holds the scissors out over Eddie’s shoulder, “First cut’s always the most freeing. Give me a starting point and I’ll do the rest babe.” 

Taking the scissors feels monumental somehow, like a big step. As pivotal a moment in the crossroads of her life as leaving her wedding ring behind. Lifting them to her hair, she selects a clump by her temple and cuts as short as she can. Then she does it again, and again. Long strands of brown hair fall to the ground in wisps. It’s unorganized and chaotic, she’s got no idea what she’s doing, but she doesn’t care. She feels like she’s in a jungle trying to unearth some hidden, overgrown temple. Eddie. Eddie is under there somewhere. She’s buried under years and years of bullshit. Hiding behind the mask that Sonia hot-glued to her face.

“Fuck yeah Eds!” Richie is cheering behind her, pumping a fist in the air and letting out a loud whoop of support as more and more of Eddie’s hair falls to the ground. 

By the time she’s done she’s made a mess of her hair, but she doesn’t even give a shit. Her eyes look wild and she’s beaming at her own reflection. She’s looking at the woman in the mirror; short brown hair in messy tufts sticking every which way, gaudy robe hanging open and off one shoulder, fresh bruises dotting every inch of exposed skin. She sees this woman in the mirror and for the first time in her life she thinks….There I am. 

Then there’s Richie. Beaming, blue eyes magnified by her glasses, and a trail of tears curving down one pale cheak. She’s got the scissors in her hands and she’s cutting whatever Eddie couldn’t reach, evening out some of the chaos. She doesn’t say it, not outright, but it’s shining out of every pore. _I’m proud of you Eds. I’m so fucking proud of you_.

Eddie reaches back, placing a hand on her own shoulder, and Richie covers it with one of her own. 

Richie gave her her life back. 

Now she can actually learn to live it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please take this away from me. 
> 
> find me on twitter at drakarifire u-u


End file.
